Sway
by ScribbleDork
Summary: Kurt finds a welcome distraction while stuck in detention.
1. Chapter 1

Kurt was stuck in detention, again, for his "inappropriate outfit." Why did he have to be the one punished for everyone else's lack of taste? Mothers McQueen and Mizrahi would be appalled. At least he'd bribed Mr. Schue into letting him scroll through his iPhone, "trying to find some songs for Sectionals;" _please_. The Wi-Fi at McKinley was poor at best but at least he could play Robot Unicorn Attack.

**Blaine**: How are you?

Kurt glanced up, his unicorn smoldering into a cloud of smoke; Mr. Schue was trying to help a boy who was steeped in pot with his Spanish assignment. He tapped out a response on the touch screen.

**Kurt:** Fine if I wasn't stuck in detention for being fabulous. You?

**Blaine:** Meh. Trying to figure out a good song for the Warblers.

**Kurt: **Same, sort of, but for ND. Suggestions?

**Blaine:** Look through your phone; I'm sure you'll find something. ;)

Kurt stared at the stupid emoticon. He loathed emoticons but for the first time he saw those two tiny symbols transform into that little half wink Blaine had given him the first time they'd met. Feeling his ears get a bit red, he typed back.

**Kurt:** What do you mean by that, sir?

**Blaine:** Oh, nothing. I totally didn't sneakily load something on there last time you and I hung out.

Kurt started flicking the screen with the pad of his finger furiously, scouring the songs list. He froze, scrolled up a bit, then froze again. _Sway – Blaine. _His finger actually shook involuntarily as it hovered over the screen.

_When marimba rhythms start to play,_

_Dance with me, make me sway._

_Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore,_

_Hold me close, sway me more._

Kurt gaped then quickly shut his mouth as Mr. Schue went back to the desk up front. Blaine's clear, warm voice flooded his ears and he could practically feel the warm breath drift over his face with the words.

_Like a flower bending in the breeze,_

_Bend with me, sway with ease._

_When we dance you have a way with me;_

_Stay with me, sway with me._

Almost too quickly, Kurt started daydreaming. He imagined Blaine busting into the room, that stupid Dalton Academy uniform flitting into a black tuxedo then back again because _something_ in Kurt's head was faulty. The older boy would grab Kurt's hand and spin him out of the desk into his arms, holding him close as the other detainees watched on in awe while they moved in time.

_Other dancers may be on the floor,_

_Dear, but my eyes will see only you._

_Only you have that magic technique;_

_When we sway I go weak._

Kurt's phone lit up with a new text but he ignored it, closing his eyes to get a better mental visual of Blaine's curly and slicked back hair, his goofy smile. The voice pulsing into his ears was so smooth and silky and, Holy Mother of Madonna, _sexy_. He crossed his legs a little tighter under the desk, leaning his head on his hand in the hopes that with his eyes closed he'd just look bored, not bothered.

_I can hear the sounds of violins_

_Long before it begins._

_Make me thrill as only you know how;_

_Sway me smooth, sway me now._

Kurt lost it. He couldn't keep still or a straight face or not make some sort of totally inappropriate outburst if this continued. He stopped the song and took a moment to stare at the defiled desktop, breathing. Just breathing. And not thinking of Blaine in a tuxedo on stage in a dark little club, singing explicitly to him and only him. He didn't think about those gold-brown eyes, no, not at all.

He flicked back to his texts after he'd calmed himself enough to not freak out of his chair and go skipping around the room like a madman with a madman's grin.

**Blaine:** Make me thrill as only you know how… Tomorrow at seven? McKinley auditorium; I pulled a few strings.

**Kurt:** I've just sat here for a whole two minutes trying to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to say.

**Blaine:** Yes? If you want, I mean. Obviously. You don't have to.

**Kurt:** I couldn't finish the song. I'm in detention and Oh My Gaga, your voice. I think Mr. Schue thought I was having a fit.

**Blaine:** I still can't tell if that's a good or bad thing. Could you answer my question before I vomit from giddy boy-nerves? Because I actually can't believe I put that on your phone and the cheesiness of this situation is not lost on me.

Kurt was grinning idiotically at the little screen. Even through technology, Blaine was still a ranter.

**Kurt:** Seven, tomorrow. April Rhodes Civic Pavilion. Can't wait. But what will I wear?

**Blaine:** I'm really glad I have some shred of self control left. I almost embarrassed myself even more by sending a text that could be very easily misconstrued as something much more sinister than I intended regarding your clothing. And now Wes is staring at me so I'm sure I'm red-faced and I'm going to stop now.

**Kurt:** Has anyone told you you're ridiculously adorable?

**Blaine:** Not for the last half hour, no.


	2. Announcement

Announcement:

I've gotten a lot of good reviews on this and most of them are asking for a part deux. Here's the deal: I wrote this and stuck it up online mostly just to mess with my friend. I wasn't planning on doing a second part or continuing it in any way. I'm writing a ton of other stuff that's taking up my time (which definitely won't be put up because it's utter rubbish, like the other night when my brain blew up and I wrote _Jews, Gyms, and ATMS: The Records of Noah Puckerman._ I mean, what's up with _that?_).

I've got an idea for what I'd like to do with this supposed second part but it's crap; I'm not even kidding. If I feel like writing it and it comes out ok or if I figure out a better idea and write that, I'll post it. But I'm not making promises. In my head, this is done. Use your imagination for what happens next. Or better yet, write it in a review or something. I'd love to read it.

Yeah, that's about it. Thanks.


End file.
